


guest of honor ( in your own skin )

by soclose



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blindfolds, Bondage, Bottom Lexa, F/F, Light Bondage, Messy Bottom Lexa, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings, Sensation Play, Smut, Top Clarke, Vaginal Fingering, really this is just a giant soft bondage clexa scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-24
Updated: 2016-09-24
Packaged: 2018-08-16 23:07:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8121184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soclose/pseuds/soclose
Summary: Clarke ties Lexa to their bed and decides to have some fun.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Welp. Here we are, my first foray into the world of Clexa smut.
> 
> This is literally just Clexa smut with a side of feels. If you're looking for plot, well.... ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> A huge thank you to my bff @leksakom on Tumblr, who helped turn this piece of sin into something that actually can be read!!!
> 
> Oh and you can find more Clexa sin on my ship sideblog, @gentlesiiin, or my rp account, @pyrrhica!

"Do you trust me, Lex?"

"Always."

The amber glow of Lexa’s desk lamp leaves just enough light for Clark to watch the soft green of her eyes as they get swallowed up in black, satin slipping through her fingers as she presses the length of it against Lexa’s eyes as they flutter and close.

"Lie back," she directs, adjusting the elastic to hold the blindfold just beneath Lexa’s brow. "Arms out."

The strap slips into an easy loop, catching around the bones at the base of Lexa’s wrist while Clarke cradles her hand in her own. She drops a whisper of a kiss to Lexa’s brow and shifts her weight forward, smile blossoming on her cheeks when Lexa sucks in a startled breath. "Do you like that?"

"I can’t see you, Clarke."

"I know. That’s kind of the point," Clarke responds. A chuckle hiccups from her throat as she presses a thumb against Lexa’s lower lip. Lexa’s mouth opens immediately, the curl of her tongue swirling hot and wet against the pad of Clarke’s finger to send static shocks up the length of her arm. Jaw slack, Clarke watches her hungrily while Lexa sucks the digit in further, eager to offer this minute pleasure. She lets her toy with it for a moment until she returns her concentration back to the naked woman spread out before her. Clarke sits up, biting at her lip as she pulls away.

Her voice is sturdier this time when she asks again, "Do you like it, Lexa?"

"Yes." Her response comes quickly, eager. Color flushes at her collar, dripping down to heat the skin of her chest. "It’s just… a lot."

"You’re going to love this," Clarke assures her. She draws up Lexa’s arm until the limb is taut, free end of the tether wrapping the post of their bedframe. She holds it in place, eyeing the distance Lexa has left to move before she asks, "is that too tight?"

She waits for the breathy "no" that graces her ears before she nods, knotting the fabric and leaving a release loop in case she has to free Lexa quickly. "Give it a tug."

Lexa pulls and Clarke sits up, watching the knot shift and settle as Lexa’s elbow bends to test the range of movement she’s been granted.

"It’s good," she confirms, and Clarke’s hand slips along her jawline, caressing her cheekbone as she bends to pull her into a lazy kiss.

"Other one," she breathes against her lips, reaching for another silky black scarf as she repeats the process on Lexa’s right arm.

"You look beautiful like this," Clarke whispers, worshipful, as she watches her blinded lover heave heavy breaths, her naked chest rising and falling as her nipples pebble with anticipation. She can’t resist the urge to reach out and brush one, thumb skipping over the hardened bud, heartbeat hammering as she watches Lexa jump under the unexpected sensation.

"What are your safewords?" She asks, sitting upright to give them both space to breathe. Her hands rest at the outward bow of Lexa’s hip, waiting for the haze to clear and let them check in.

"Red," Lexa returns obediently, and Clarke’s eyes track the thick swallow of her throat, "---- If I need you to stop. Yellow to slow down. Green if I want… more.'

Clarke’s spine bows deep, hips shifting down Lexa’s thighs as she presses a solid kiss just above Lexa’s navel. "And what are you at right now?" she asks, her lungs full of gravel. Heat pools in the pockets of her hip bones.

It takes a moment. It always does when Clarke asks Lexa to turn the desires of her body into explicit words. "Green. Will you kiss me, please?"

"You don’t have to beg for that," Clarke assures her, sliding the bare warmth of her skin along Lexa’s chest as she brings them flush. "Not yet."

Smug promise builds in the curl of her smirk, fingers spreading to brush along the sensitive undersides of Lexa’s arms. They slip over the bows of her triceps, glide over the crook of her elbow and dance down the line of her forearm before weaving tightly between her fingers. The kiss she places on her neck is messy, all wet tongue and nipping teeth that work along her jaw before catching on the swell of Lexa’s lower lip. She swallows the start of a moan, Lexa’s mouth falling open and soft as she submits.

Their fingers mingle. She waits for Lexa to sink into the mattress, muscles pliant, before she frees her hands, drags them back over her biceps with nails first.

"Do you have any idea what I want to do to you like this?" Clarke asks, breath blowing into the dip of Lexa’s collarbone and she quivers beneath her. "I could kiss every inch of your skin. Leave you covered in bites and bruises and marks of my touch."

Her palms plant against the bedsheets, press her up until the only place they meet is at the anchor of their hips. "Or I could barely touch you at all." A finger traces the rim of her nipple, barely there, repeating her steps as Lexa’s chest breaks out in goosebumps. "Keep you focused on just the tiniest spot…" Her finger takes a sharp turn, cutting across the lazy circle of her path to flick at the sensitive bud. Lexa gasps. The sound is explosive in the near-silence of their room and Clarke’s belly tightens, cheeks flushed.

"I bet I could get you to come from just this," she moans, longing. Thumb catching the edge of Lexa’s nipple against her index finger, she tugs, and the resulting arch of Lexa’s back underneath her is all the answer she needs. "Fuck, that’s tempting…." Selfishly, she bends to drags the flat of her tongue against the soft planes of her skin before catching the bud between her lips. "Maybe next time."

Lifting a knee, Clarke places it atop Lexa’s thighs, giving her a chance to open her thighs. When her legs split to invite her in, Clarke slides back. Her weight settles in the created space while her elbows frame her hips. Lexa struggles against the restraints, shoulders rolling as she jerks and tries to steal her hands free.

"I want to touch you," Lexa rasps, need skittering in the shiver that passes underneath her skin. Her hips lift, knees clinging at Clarke in an attempt to make contact.

Clarke shushes her softly, hands splaying the width of her belly as she presses flat kisses down the line to her navel. "I’m here, baby. Just pay attention to the weight of my hands. Feel how warm they are against you."

She runs her thumbs on either side of Lexa’s belly button, hands steadying in their presence as Lexa huffs and shifts fruitlessly against the mattress. After a moment of restlessness, she settles, and Clarke’s breath strangles in her chest, desire warring with the need to care as she waits, letting Lexa relax under the track of her thumbs. She presses kisses at her hip bones, eyes on the expanse of warm skin before her as Lexa relaxes, forced stillness giving way to the upward tilt of her hips into Clarke’s lips. It’s only as Clarke resumes her exploration, kisses reaching the edge of neat black curls that Lexa’s breath changes, shifting from a measured pull to a stuttering gasp, her need for touch transforming from demand to encouragement.

"What’s your color?" Clarke asks, swallowing.

There’s no hesitation, just the smooth blow of a whisper between them as she says, "Green. I need you, Clarke. Please."

"You have me."

It’s all the confirmation Clarke needs. She drags her mouth down the tender curve of Lexa’s hip, pausing to suckle and bite at the meaty swell of her inner thigh. Lexa trembles when she leaves her first mark, a faint red splotch of kisses and teeth that will fade to a soft bruise by morning.

"Mine," she says, possessive, as her fingers follow her path with the drag of nails, drawing pink lines to color over Lexa’s flush like her own personal canvas. Lexa answers with her shoulders lifting from the mattress, the choking gasp of a moan caught in her throat, and it’s the first note in Clarke’s favorite symphony. She tongues at the apex of Lexa’s thigh, teasing the tendon, biting down gently when she hears Lexa’s breath breaking into a moan.

Her thumb comes up to brush against coarse curls, sliding along the edge of silk and heat before dipping into it. She drags a thread of glistening arousal up to the swollen nub of Lexa’s clit, thumb ghosting over the peaking head, but still Lexa arches, the restraints shaking at the bed frame as her head tips back into the pillows.

"God, you’re so wet," Clarke breathes against her, throat rounded in amazement as Lexa’s thighs twitch and shiver with need.

"Clarke, please…" she calls, desperate, her hips lifting to chase Clarke’s finger for more contact as she repeats the barely-there circles. Heady, her thoughts swimming through a thick haze of arousal, Clarke finds it in herself to be merciful (--- and selfish, so, so selfish---) as she bends to follow the path of her thumb with a flat stroke of her tongue.

"Jesus, Lexa…."

She dips into the salt and sweet of her girlfriend’s arousal, fingertip teasing at her entrance as Clarke smothers her senses in everything that is Lexa. Jaw open, enraptured, she presses a finger inside her, watching as it slips in to the first knuckle, then the second. Lexa’s muscles clench around her, pulling her deeper before she’s bottomed out, surrounded by the blissful heat of Lexa’s body. Pulling out slowly, Clarke lets her tongue tease upward, swirling around the swollen pearl of her clit before pressing back inside of her, starting a slow rhythm of strokes while her tongue flicks gentle, lazy against her.

"Clarke, fuck ------"

Lexa’s tongue flicks over the k’s, the unusual addition to her vocabulary shooting lightning bolts down the to curl at Clarke’s toes. Her thighs press tight at the end of the bed, desperate for pressure as her hips grind, aching and needy with Lexa around her fingers and on her tongue.

Her clit fits so soft and neat in the press of Clarke’s lips, her tongue rolling over the bud before she flattens it, pleasing her in long strokes that have Lexa’s hands clenching at the ends of her tethers, throat strained and bared as Clarke watches her over the heave of her gasping belly.

"Are you focusing on where I touch you, Lexa?" Clarke’s voice is nothing but grit and the rasp of want, mouth pulling away to curl a second finger in with her first. Lexa pushes down against her and Clarke’s fingers curl, pressing upward in exploration until Lexa arches, shoulders jerking off the mattress as she moans. "------ You like that, baby?"

Lexa’s answer is nothing short of a cry, a burst of pleasure that rushes forth as Clarke’s fingers slide against the needy grip of her body.

"I want to feel you come, Lexa," Clarke says, angling her fingers to draws out Lexa’s stuttering gasp with every thrust. "Can you do that for me?"

Lexa’s nod is frantic as it shakes down the length of her body. Humming, pleased, Clarke returns her mouth to Lexa’s skin, blowing a cool breath against her clit before tonguing it softly. Opening her lips, she slips the bundle of her nerves into her mouth, suckling as her fingers press. She can feel the squeeze of Lexa’s body around her fingers, watch the twitch that gathers in the space around her navel as Clarke teases her with her tongue. The pressure spreads down her hips into the tremble of her thighs, contagious, and Lexa is close, waiting on the edge of something beautiful. Clarke doesn’t hesitate, just flattens her tongue in long, pressing strokes. Her wrist burns where she holds the position of her hand, but she deems the limb a worthy sacrifice as she hears Lexa’s breath catch, her muscles starting to flutter and squeeze around the thrust of her fingers.

"Oh!"

Breaking is never as beautiful as it is when it comes from the bow of Lexa’s spine, her shoulders writhing and wrists tugging at the restraints. Her muscles lose their finely tuned control in favor of shudders and twitches, hand grasping at air as her toes curl before her body freezes ------

"Clarke!"

Her free hand smooth--gentle, comforting--over the desperate shake of Lexa’s hips, her body pulsing around Clarke’s fingers as she comes. Clarke can read her heart rate in the blip against her tongue as Lexa comes undone, falling apart around her and letting Clarke rebuild her in slow strokes that drag out her ecstasy through every shock and burst of electric pleasure.

When Clarke lifts her head, she can feel the air cool the wetness that sticks to her chin, the back of her hand. She withdraws her fingers carefully, sighing into Lexa’s gasp as they slip free from her body’s relaxing grip.

"Clarke ------ ?"

"I’m right here, baby."

It’s a different need that comes crawling out of Lexa’s throat now, her voice barely a whisper of rumble and desire when Clarke crawls up and over her, reaching to undo the first of the ties that hold her. The knot gives easily, slipping free and Lexa’s arm pulls in, held close to her body while Clarke shifts to free the second one.

"What’s your color, Lex?" she asks, quiet as she slips the loops off of Lexa’s wrists and presses a kiss to the faint lines of pink that tug across her tendons.

"Yellow," is the whispering answer and her hands scramble for her face, Clarke intercepting them as they reach for her blindfold. "Clarke, please, I need -- I can’t ------- ."

"Let me," she says, thumbs caressing at her cheekbones before tipping under the edge of fabric, carefully lifting it from her eyes before tugging it up and over her head. Her eyes flutter open, wide and too green and searching. "There’s my girl."

Lexa’s face buries in the crook of Clarke’s neck and Clarke’s arms come up to hold her, fingers tracing the line of her spine as she presses a kiss to the sweat matted curl at her temple. Trembling muscles shudder underneath her fingertips, so Clarke just holds her, taking note of the hot rush of breath that spills out against her neck as it slows, evens out.

"Are you okay?" she asks, brushing back the hair from Lexa’s face. Heavy eyelids lift to look at her, blinking lazy as she nods.

"Yeah, I’m…" she begins, tongue coming out to wet her lips before she swallows. "Good. I’m good. Thank you, Clarke."

"Thank you, for trusting me."

"Always."

Dipping her chin, Clarke captures Lexa in a kiss, languid and loving as their lips press and melt together. Her heart flutters inside her chest, the swell of her love the only thing that overpowers the ache in her hips while Lexa yawns big and sleepy against her.

"Go to sleep," Clarke whispers against her crown, shifting her shoulders to settle more firmly into the bed and hold Lexa closer.

"What about you ------ ?" The question is muffled into her shoulder, Lexa’s hand hovering over her navel as she gestures vaguely at Clarke’s untouched arousal.

"Sleep now," Clarke says firmly, reaching down to lace their fingers and close the conversation to argument. "You can return the favor later."

"------ With my mouth?"

Smiling at the eager excitement, even under the slur of near sleep, Clarke kisses Lexa’s forehead before she nods. "I’ll even sit on your face if you’re up for it."

"Mmm. Yes, please."


End file.
